Do you want a garden that makes a real difference? Choose plants native to our Northeast region. The rewards will benefit you, your yard, and the environment—from reducing maintenance tasks to attracting earth-friendly pollinators such as native birds, butterflies, and bees. We must envision a future in which wild creatures of all shapes and sizes are afforded space in our built environment.
Native wildflower gardening is more popular than ever. But a century ago, this was not the case. Wildflowers persist in the numbers they do today because of the activism and research of a group of women ecologists who in 1901 defied gender norms and founded the discipline of ecological restoration.
In Garden Allies, author Frederique Lavoipierre encourages a perspective shift towards the critters in our gardens. Instead of thinking of garden inhabitants as good or bad, she encourages us to think of them in their ecological roles, with a food-web perspective. What results is a book jam-packed with identification clues, gardening guidance, and stories that had me penciling exclamation points in the margins.
Heather Holm has written another beautiful book for pollinator gardening enthusiasts. She combines Jane Goodall’s style of long-term field observations with library research. Her photographs and illustrations capture your interest and increase your appreciation for bees, their natural history, and their host plants.
The Woodchip Handbook is a small (~200 page) book dedicated to using woodchips on the landscape. Practicality is a key concept that runs throughout the book. Topics are introduced generally and quickly, followed by varying versions of how-tos, including case studies, common problems, and solutions.
Based on the number of genetically unique ecological niches, the loss of overall biodiversity is our most significant threat to a livable world. Loss of habitat can be partially overcome if species move and share their genetic material. Diverse and linked ecosystems that allow migration are crucial, acting as a climate change buffer by helping as many species as possible adapt.
Grasses are everywhere. They cover vast areas of the earth, yet they also grow out of the cracks of city sidewalks. Yet few people – even those who are passionately interested in nature – take the trouble to learn the names of grasses. Here are but a few types of grasses, sedges, and rushes to whet your appetite to discover the wonders of these plant species
In his book Community Eco-Gardens, Dennis Swiftdeer Paige brings an optimistic and can-do attitude to his twenty-year project of creating a native landscape in a five-acre condo complex outside of Chicago. Paige, always entranced by the natural world, gradually develops a native natural habitat in his residential Town Square Condominium Complex.
Healthy plant metabolism begins with a molecule of water, a breath of carbon, and light energy from our nearest star. The tangible science behind all this unlocks the righteous way to farm and garden, give honor to trees, and plain do right by this earth. Nothing has ever excited me more.
Working to solve the mysteries of what made the forests tick, and how they are linked to the earth and fire and water, made me a scientist. I watched the forest, and I listened. I followed where my curiosity led me, I listened to the stories of my family and people, and I learned from the scholars. I poured everything I had into becoming a sleuth of what it takes to heal the natural world.
Grasses have always scared me. Too many species, the flowers too small, the terminology strange and unfamiliar. As an amateur naturalist and very part-time at that, as the demands of work and family limited my wanderings, I had come to terms with the fact that I’d die without knowing my grasses. No longer. Lauren Brown and Ted Elliman’s little book, Grasses, Sedges, Rushes: An Identification Guide, has changed everything.
In The Nature of Oaks, Doug Tallamy hopes to encourage appreciation of the diversity in the web of life by focusing on a single tree that began as an acorn he planted in a pot and transplanted into his yard. Now 18 years old, still very young for an oak tree, Tallamy observes the tree and the many forms of life it supports then shares a month-by-month record of a few visitors.
